


healing touch

by wildflowersinthemeadow



Category: Intouchables (2011)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Slash, intimate touch, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1878072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildflowersinthemeadow/pseuds/wildflowersinthemeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>set during the scene where Driss takes Philippe to the sea - Driss and Philippe share an intimate moment</p>
            </blockquote>





	healing touch

Driss entered through the balcony door back into the hotel room and beamed. Philippe was watching him, a smile playing around his lips, too.

Driss threw his hands in the air. "Man, I don't think I'll ever get used to this. This air, it's so ... fresh is not the right word. Groovy. It's like it blows through your whole lungs! You never breathe air like this in Paris. At least I never did." He paused and scratched the back of his head. "What a dumb thing to say, now that you think of it. Of course you can't breathe that kind of air in Paris, Paris is not located by the seaside."

Philippe laughed. It was one of the typical Driss rants. 

"Do you want me to close the window?" the younger man casually asked.

Philippe turned his head towards the window and threw a glance through the glass door. The waves were dancing high, crashing against the shore. Seagulls were shrieking and he saw some of them soaring through the air. And then there was this sturdy, salty breeze. It was refreshing and Philippe thoroughly enjoyed it. 

"No, leave it," he answered casually. "It's nice like this."

Driss grinned his pearly, big smile and nodded. "Alrighty."

Philippe closed his eyes for a second, then looked at the younger man. Driss was not sure he could read him. 

"Come sit by me for a moment, my friend," Philippe finally said. 

Driss did as he was told and waited for further conversation or instructions. In the meantime, he switched on the tv, flickering through the channels, not really watching.

"Are you comfortable, Philippe?" he asked with a tender voice. 

"Yes, I'm good," the older man replied. "But can you do me a favor? Can you turn me on the side, so I will face you?"

Driss shrugged his shoulders. "Sure."

For once, Philippe was glad that the expensive hotels had like a dozen pillows on their beds. With quick movements and strong hands, Driss had piled and aligned the cushions behind Philippe, turned him around and propped him against. 

"Better?"  
Philippe nodded. "Better."

Driss kicked off his shoes, climbed into the bed and lay down on his side, facing Philippe. 

Philippe sighed. "Thank you," he said in a quiet voice. "For taking me out here, for today, for everything. I don't know where and what I would be now if it had not been you."

Driss smiled a shy smile, something Philippe had never seen before on the younger man's face. "I did it gladly," he replied.

They lay like this for a moment, watching each other, the tv quietly chattering in the background. 

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" Driss suddenly asked out of a blue.

Philippe looked at him, surprised. Then smiled. "Really?" he asked.

Driss nodded. "Yeah!" His eyes traveled along Philippe's features and he pointed out: "Your eyebrows, for example. So strong and manly," not without a humorous undertone. Philippe laughed. "You've got good hair, for such an old man." They both had to laugh at this. "Your warm, chocolate eyes. You have kind eyes, revealing who or what you love." At that, Philippe suddenly opened his eyes wide and looked at the younger man. "And the lines on your face," Driss finally concluded. "They tell the story of your life." 

Suddenly, he raised his hand and his fingers gently traveled along the fine lines around Philippe's eyes. Philippe looked at him for a second, then closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Absentmindedly, Driss drew fine lines and circles on the older man's face. His fingers brushed Philippe's forehead, traveled along his nose, playfully dotting on the nosetip, as if conincidentally brushed his lips and finally danced on Philippe's chin.

Philippe still had his eyes closed. "Please, don't stop," he suddenly sighed and opened his eyes. Longingly, he looked at Driss. "It has been ages since anybody touched me like this," Philippe added in a small voice. 

Driss simply smiled and nodded. He placed his big hand on Philippe's hair and caressed it. Philippe closed his eyes again, leaning into the touch. For a while, Driss' hand traveled along the older man's features again until it finally rested on Philippe's cheek. 

"Don't move," Driss whispered. Slowly, he leaned forward and lay his lips on Philippe's forehead. The kiss was warm and tender and Philippe smiled into the intimate touch. Driss then kissed Philippe's right eyebrow, left eyebrow, carefully Philippe's eyelids. He planted a dozen little kisses on Philippe's cheeks before finally arriving at his mouth. Driss lingered for a second. Then he took Philippe's face in both his hands and gently kissed his lips. 

The kiss came not unexpected after the tender build-up and yet took Philippe completely by surprise. While he was feeling Driss' warm lips on his, he could for the love of God not remember when he had been kissed for the last time and how this kiss had felt. That's why he enjoyed every second of it. He was so hungered out, yearning for it that he tried to show some kind of initiative by diving forward, with all the strength he had and actively returning the touch. 

And yet, ages of loneliness without a tender touch showed their traces. Driss felt how the face in his hands started trembling. He opened his eyes and pulled away. Tears were streaming down Philippe's face. 

"Philippe, what is it? Did I do something wrong?" the younger man asked with a worried crease between his eyebrows.

Philippe closed his eyes for a second, not being able to stop crying and shook his head. "No, you didn't. It's just me acting stupid."

Driss smiled a compassionate smile. "You crazy old man, you're not acting stupid at all."

Calling him an old man, their established insider joke, made Philippe smile for a moment. Then Driss finally threw all guardedness overboard, put his arms around Philippe and pulled him into a warm, big hug. The older man shamelessly cried into his shoulder, allowed being held. They remained like this for a while and Driss waited patiently until the cries finally died.

Driss caressed Philippe's cheek and looked him in the eye. "I am here. You never have to cry again." He then placed a tender kiss on Philippe's hair.

They lay like this for a long moment, exchanging tender, comforting sentences, touching, casually kissing inbetween. Later could wait. For a moment, they were alone in their little world and just happy to have each other.


End file.
